Up She Goes
by Catherine Antrim
Summary: The Carpathia has returned to New York and Rose's life must go on without Jack. She is now free, but what does that really mean? Isn't this what she always wanted? I haven't written fanfiction in a while I hope I'm not too rusty!
1. Chapter 1

Part 1  
Rose

Rose didn't remember being plucked from the water, or the hours (three she was told) she spent waiting half frozen in the lifeboat. She only remembered waking, ice cold still, upon the decks of the Carpathia. And she was alone.

A week ago she would have revelled in this. She was no one, she was free. But now she felt heavy and empty and like perhaps there had been a mistake and she was meant to drown. She drank the brandy without wincing and ate the bread offered to her and spoke to no one.

When the ship docked, some reality crept in. She wasn't the only survivor of the great ship to find themselves suddenly alone in New York City, destitute, widowed, orphaned. Crowds of people had arrived to help the survivors, or perhaps to look for someone they had lost. Rose avoided them, avoided everyone, just wanting to get far far away from the harbor.

While Rose had always had a romantic inclination towards a penniless existence, she wasn't really sure where to begin or what that looked like. She thought of Jack, drifting from place to place, not a care in the world. Would she ever truly be that free? They could have had that together, but she didn't dare to think of that now.

She stuck her hand in the heavy black coat for the hundredth time that day. Her fingers closed around the diamond, and brushed the stack of bills beside it. She didn't want to spend _his_money on anything. But then, she didn't want to sleep on the streets.

For hours she wandered the city unsure of her future, too numb and tired to really let any of the sadness creep in. Night fell and she found herself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Her legs felt strange and the solid ground beneath her still felt alien.

On a whim, she entered a dimly lit bar and tried to sound confident as she ordered a beer. There were men and women here who looked like the kind of people Jack would befriend, the kind of people Jack would know how to talk to ( though who couldn't Jack talk to for that matter.).

It was strange to think that people still sat and smiled and drank beer and spoke about cheerful things. That people still could fall in love and still hold hands and whisper secrets to each other in the dark. Some did speak of the Titanic, but as if it was far away, a fantasy. No more real than heaven or hell. They were safe, dry, alive. She felt her throat closing.

She rented a room upstairs using Cal's money. It didn't look like much, but even if it had, she wouldn't have noticed. She had refused the clothes offered to them on the Carpathia and therefore was still wearing her blue dress. It smelled like salt water.

She stared out the window of her room as the city lights twinkled on and off. She was only seventeen but felt like she was one hundred. How could she be reborn so old? It struck her then, surviving, hard as it had been, was really the easy part. Now she had to live.


	2. Chapter 2

_Rose looked up at lady liberty and smiled. "Take our picture!" She yelled, jumping in front of a tourist holding a camera and raising her arms comically. "Come get in the picture Jack!"_

_Jack shook his head and watched her. "I don't want to ruin the shot."_

_Rose laughed and ran to him, "Race you to the top, Jack. It's so high, I bet we can see the other side of the ocean."_

_She was wearing her favorite dress. It was so clean and new and soft. The sky was a clear, cloudless blue like spun sugar, and somewhere a band was playing and children were buying peanuts and balloons. Her feet hurt and she was tired in all the best ways, tired from eating too much candy and walking all over the city, tired from running through central park and chasing the ducks. Jack pulled her back._

"_I don't need to go up there to see London. Not that I want to see it. I've got everything right here," he whispered._

"_Can we do this everyday Jack?" she said softly._

"_I wish baby," he smiled wickedly and wrapped his arms around her waist._

"_I miss this dress," she said. She ran her fingers over the soft white fabric. "It's at the bottom of the ocean now."_

"_I know, I know" Jack held her close._

Rose woke up with the sun in her eyes and her pillow wet.


	3. Chapter 3

Whenever a ship docked in town all the other girls at McSorely's seemed to come to work with their hair curlier and their blouses tighter. They laughed loudly at the sailor's jokes and kept the strong drinks coming. These nights were likely to end in singing, dancing, sweat and and perhaps a night alone with someone you never had to see again.

Rose had only worked for Mr. McSorely's four months and was already well accustomed to the routine, if hesitant to join in herself. The other girls had also already become used to Rose's distaste for sailors. While she usually would have a sherry or a beer after her shift, on nights when the sailors were in town, she would slip out early without a word.

Rose was no longer living in the little room upstairs but instead had moved in with one of the girls from work, Ann, to a little apartment in the village. Most of the windows looked out at a brick wall, the pipes leaked, the ceiling leaked and the neighbors on both sides were prone to loud arguments, but none of this bothered Rose.

The apartment only had one bedroom, so Rose slept on a camp bed in what was supposed to be the living room. Ann was friendly, rarely home and asked very few questions, and Rose appreciated her for these reasons. It had taken her a while to even interact with the other girls at work. Rose in her past life had been hard to silence, Rose Dawson of McSorely's was known mainly for her quiet sad eyes and her mysterious lack of a past.

It was one of the hottest days in August when the USS Perkins docked in New York and the thirsty sailors came looking for a drink and maybe a tender voice. It should be mentioned, there are nicer and bigger bars than McSorely's (famous for its two choices of beer: light or dark) but you would be hard pressed to find a bar with prettier girls.

Rose was the only girl whose heart didn't race when she saw them approaching in their white uniforms. She focused deeply on making the zinc topped bar shine and making sure everyone had full glasses.

Elsa, one of the newer girls, and Madame Mary, who had been there as long as anyone could remember, enjoyed a drink with several of the new arrivals. Elsa's hair was shockingly fair and she still had a sprinkling of freckles, a relic from her childhood in Kansas. Madame Mary had one streak of gray in her dark hair and bright eyes that never missed a beat.

"And what does that one mean?" said Elsa, pointing at the sparrow on one young man's bicep, he had rolled up his sleeve to show it to her.

"It means I've travelled 5000 miles by sea love," said the sailor, a dark complexioned young man who had barely taken his eyes off Elsa.

"Do you have more?" she said, her eyes big. The sailor began rolling up his pants leg.

"This un here, this means I'm willing to kill see, it's a dagger through a rose, most of my mates have these uns"

"A dagger through a rose?"

"Yes, willing to do what you have to see, even something as delicate as a rose."

"Rose ain't that delicate, I've seen her kick men out of here drunk and twice her size!" said Madame Mary with a laugh. "You're gonna need a better tattoo then that."

Rose stopped cleaning the bar and looked over. "Why don't you come join us Rose dear," said Madame Mary. "Or are you just going to stand there and watch?"

Rose began furiously shining again.

"You're gonna wipe the metal clean off it ya don't stop" said Madame Mary with a laugh.

"I have tables to serve" said Rose looking around for someone with an empty cup but finding no one.

"Look here, I've never seen ones like this before," exclaimed Elsa. The sailor had now removed his shoes and Rose came to see too, curious but apprehensive. He had one on each foot, a rooster and a pig.

"What on earth does that mean?" Elsa was still laughing.

"Dunno exactly," said the sailor. "It's supposed to prevent drowning, not sure why though. Figured it couldn't hurt. Don't wanna drown now do I."

Rose looked at the pig and the rooster and they stared back defiantly, it was that easy. Those could have saved everyone, had they thought to get precautionary tattoos before crossing the ocean. Rose fell silent and slipped into an empty seat.

Madame Mary alone saw the look in her eyes and acted quickly. "Do you have any tattoos Mr. Letham?" she said, addressing the sailor beside her. He was quieter than his mates, and his skin was tan and wrinkled as Rose's leather boots. While older than the others, he still was not old by any means, forty perhaps. Young for a seaman still.

"Just one that's fit to show polite company," he said, the skin around his eyes wrinkled even deeper when he smiled. He rolled up the front of his sleeve to reveal his forarm. It was another Rose and the thorny stem entwined with the initials JS. "For my Jane," he said softly. "She's gone to her watery grave but I'm never apart from her now."

Everyone fell silent and looked at the pink, blossoming rose, so alive, on his arm.

"Of course, I have her as a mermaid as well, but no where fit to show you lot," he shouted, breaking everyone's melancholy.

Elsie laughed with her head back. "Show us please!"

Only Rose stayed quiet, going to get herself a beer and trying to stop her hands shaking. She listened to the sailors stories all night until Elsie left with the younger tattooed boy and Rose closed up with Madame Mary.

"Rose you are a closed book," said Mary, putting away the newly cleaned glasses. "Where did you come from? You never say a word. Sometimes I think you just washed up here."

Rose smiled slightly. "I think that sometimes too."

The next day Elsie wasn't present, and most of the sailors had moved on to more lively halls. The sun beamed in through the old glass window and made the copper of the bar sparkle like electricity. Only a few regulars came this early, single men looking for a hot meal midday, the usual drunks and elderly people with little else to do. And the older man from the night before, Lethem, sitting at the bar, sipping a brandy alone, wearing civilian clothes so Rose scarcely recognized him at first.

"Can I get you another?" she said, leaning over the bar. "It's on the house."

Lethem raised his empty glass to her. "Thank you kindly."

Rose smiled.

"You seem a lot more friendly by day," observed Lethem.

Rose shrugged. "I am friendly. I just don't care for tales of the sea .They bore me."

"Well miss I'm sorry to bore you. You have to trust me when I say it's more exciting to live it. I'm a poor story teller and I don't pretend otherwise."

Rose didn't know what to say to this, so she began drying glasses and hanging them in the racks above the bar.

"Where do you go to get those tattoos?" she said suddenly.

"What? I got these in Europe. But there's a place on the pier here that does em too."

"Where? Can you take me?"

"Do you want to see how it works? It's a bit gory miss. I wouldn't want to upset you."

"No, I want to get one." she said firmly. "I get off after dinner and then you can take me."


End file.
